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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29075277">Beautiful For What</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llybian/pseuds/Llybian'>Llybian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Roses Are Falling [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Slayers (Anime &amp; Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drabble, F/M, Pillow Talk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:09:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>579</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29075277</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llybian/pseuds/Llybian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’ve been around awhile,” he said. An understatement if there ever was one. “I’ve met quite a few aesthetically pleasing people, but you…”</p><p>Filia froze. Was he…?</p><p>He scratched his cheek a little awkwardly. “Well, you’re one of them.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Filia Ul Copt/Xellos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Roses Are Falling [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2133183</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Beautiful For What</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was a short one, but I haven't written new XelFi in almost four years. So I'm just happy I got some inspiration back.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’re wasted,” he said.</p><p>Her brow furrowed. “I’m not,” she said, almost petulantly. “I only had one glass of wine with dinner.”</p><p>It might have been better, Filia realized, if she had been. At least that would provide some sort of excuse for why she was lying in bed next to a monster who liked to call himself Xellos. It would’ve given some context to her shaky breathing or the fact that, while her nightgown was still firmly in place, her underwear had been carelessly tossed on the floor.</p><p>“That’s not what I meant,” Xellos said. He had an unusually subdued affect. It was worrying.</p><p>She sat up in bed and looked at them. They were both looked remarkably put together despite all that had passed between them. Looks deceive.</p><p>“I’ve been around awhile,” he said. An understatement if there ever was one. “I’ve met quite a few aesthetically pleasing people, but you…”</p><p>Filia froze. Was he…?</p><p>He scratched his cheek a little awkwardly. “Well, you’re one of them.”</p><p>She unfroze. That hadn’t felt like what he was building to.</p><p>“So?” she asked. Ostensibly she was being praised. So why did it feel belittling?</p><p>He shuffled under the covers. “’So’ indeed,” he agreed. “You don’t need to be. You’d be the same—act the same—even if you weren’t.”</p><p>“How am I supposed to act?”</p><p>He shook his head. “That’s not the point.” But he didn’t seem keen on elaborating on what the point was.</p><p>When she was silent, he turned to look at her, as if to correct the record. “You’re <em>not</em> the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, I’ll have you know.”</p><p>She crossed her arms. “It’s not like I said I was!” she scoffed, tone sharpening.</p><p>“I’ve met at least three or four women and men more classically beautiful then you,” he went on, as if he hadn’t heard her. “But still you’re…”</p><p>
  <em>Ah.</em>
</p><p>Her temper cooled.</p><p>You know… it was funny. She wouldn’t really call him handsome. <em>Attractive, </em>damn him. Draws the eye like nobody’s business. But too strange and symmetrical to be handsome. Maybe beautiful, in the way a statue is beautiful—smooth, blemishless, and, ultimately, a lie. A sharp edge pretending to be round. That was Xellos.</p><p>What’s more he had this… it <em>had</em> to be an exuberance for the material world. There was no other way she could explain it—the way he was. The way he <em>chose</em> to be. Like an excited tourist wearing a brightly colored tropical shirt. He was someone who worked in the shadows for gods’ sakes! There was no need for him to run around with purple hair and gaudy red gems and eyes that could cut glass. There was no need for him to be so bold in his faded black cape that did approximately nothing to hide his… <em>himness.</em></p><p><em>You could be somebody’s muse. You could be somebody’s muse. What are you </em>doing<em> here? You could be somebody’s muse.</em></p><p>The bed creaked as she rose onto her knees. She lifted the skirts of her nightgown daintily as she straddled his lap.</p><p><em>What are you doing here with </em>me?</p><p>She maintained eye-contact with him as she crossed her arms and gripped the sides of her dress. She pulled upward. He helped her get the dress over her head.</p><p>“I’m me,” she said.</p><p>The cold of the room drew her skin in tight. She could feel his eyes on her.</p><p>He smiled faintly. “I guess that’s why.”</p>
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